


Three Ships Came Sailing In

by Unsentimentalf



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-30 19:37:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8546506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unsentimentalf/pseuds/Unsentimentalf
Summary: "I’d like you to go to Cygnus Alpha,“ she said. "The prison planet?"  Avon frowned. "What sort of systems are they running?"





	

“Unless the building’s on fire it will wait,” Avon said without raising his head. He was trying to untangle the final piece of a particularly convoluted piece of coding that his programming team had screwed up and the sound of the door to his office opening was not at all welcome. 

“You are Kerr Avon,” an unfamiliar voice said. It wasn’t quite a question. 

“Sit down and shut up,” he told the woman’s voice. “I’ll be another ten minutes.”

He heard a set of footsteps, and a rustle as the person sat down. In a few seconds he’d blocked her out of his mind, his focus back on the dance of a dozen variables.

There. That was where it went wrong. He typed a swift correction, ran the program and nodded satisfaction at the results. Then he glanced at the time in the corner of the screen. Another late night, but now the whole task was nearly done he could finish the paperwork tonight and have the next day off. He’d let Anna know. This project had taken a ridiculous amount of his time and she’d been busy at work as well; it had been days since he’d seen her. 

“Kerr Avon,” the woman said again. He looked round. She was a middle aged Alpha. New management, no doubt. 

“What can I do for you?” he asked, moderately politely. She had waited for him to finish, which in his eyes put her several rungs above his current line management. 

“I’d like you to go to Cygnus Alpha,“ she said. 

“The prison planet?” He frowned. “What sort of systems are they running?”

She flickered a not quite smile. “Not in a professional capacity. Or at least not that professional capacity. Let me introduce myself. I work for the Security services. You can call me Gressa.” 

At the mention of Security Avon automatically consulted his conscience, which didn’t seem particularly guilty. “Well, Gressa,” he said. “If Cygnus Alpha isn’t running a complex computer network then I have no reason to go there in any capacity.”

“How does five million credits sound as a reason?” 

Enough to never have to work again. “Plausible.” he said. “You’d better start at the beginning.”

He heard her out, as patiently as he thought five million credits warranted. Then he started with the objections. 

“I’m no dissembler, and I don’t suffer fools gladly. I can lie when I need to but I’m not going to be convincing as anyone’s acolyte. You want someone who can preach revolutionary garbage with a straight face, not me.”

“We don’t need you to be a revolutionary.” Gressa told him. “You have skills that Blake will desperately need. We’re not expecting you to play the political fanatic, just the opportunist looking for a way out of the mess you’re in. You can do that.”

“Why me? You must have real agents with computer skills.”

She was clearly expecting that question. “We know that Blake has an eye for the extraordinary. You’ll stand out like a beacon among the prisoners. You’ve also got the ability to keep your head above water in adverse circumstances, and your psych profile suggests that provided we offer you enough you’ll stay reliably bought.”

He stood up, shaking his head. “Your psych profile should have shown you that I have reasons to stay right here. Money’s not everything.”

Gressa didn’t seem particularly concerned about his move towards leaving. “You haven’t asked about your trial.”

“I imagine you could trump something up easily enough.”

“It’s not that easy. Most crimes are dealt with by adjustment. Prison planets are reserved for the most serious offences and you don’t have the profile or any motive for most of those. Fortunately in your case the work had been done for us.” 

She stood up as well, offering him a hand held console. Avon flicked through the familiar material on it, his heart sinking. Useless to deny all knowledge; he knew his face had already given him away. “Where did you get this?”

“We are the security service,” she said. “Getting things is our job.” 

“It was no more than a thought experiment,” Avon said. “You know full well that I’ve done nothing to put it into action. I never intended to.”

“It’s a remarkably detailed thought experiment, and it has your digital fingerprints all over it. Should these events happen, there is little doubt that the courts would, with very little prompting, conclude that the Federation would benefit from sending you somewhere else. Somewhere like Cygnus Alpha.”

The console he’d noted down the details of the entirely theoretical bank fraud scheme on hadn’t been connected to any network; after he’d finished it he’d erased the data permanently and without any chance of recovery. Yet here it was. He pulled up the hidden data records. The copy had been made six days ago, in the evening. He’d left it in Anna’s hands for less than a minute while he’d gone into the kitchen to get the wine.

“What did you do to her?”

Gressa took the console back. “ If I were you I would forget that you ever knew the name Anna Grant. After all I very much doubt that it is going to be in anyone’s best interests to be associated with you from now on.” 

Avon looked at the woman, horror dawning. “You’re going to do it whatever I say, aren’t you? Fake the fraud and pin it on me?”

“Yes,” she told him. “It’s already done. You are going to Cygnus Alpha, Kerr Avon. But the offer of five million is entirely genuine. If you agree to work for us you’ll come back again relatively quickly as a rich man. If you don’t, you’ll stay there.”

“Why?” he asked, though he didn’t expect an answer. “If this man’s so dangerous, why not just let him meet with an accident on the prison ship?”

“I don’t know,” she said, “And in the time you work for us you probably will never meet anyone who does. We are operations, not policy.”

She slid the console into her bag. “Your defence team will brief you on exactly what is expected, and your safeguards, of course. We don’t expect you to simply trust us to pull you out and pay you once your usefulness is at an end.”

“What if I choose my own defence team? One that might be genuinely concerned with getting an innocent man off fake charges?”

For the first time she smiled. “From this moment on you’re going to find that you have only one choice that matters. Make the sensible choice, Kerr Avon, and become a rich man at liberty in just a few months. I’m sure you will. After all your pragmatism is one reason why we chose you.” 

After she’d left he sat down again, head in his hands. For a moment he tried to convince himself that it might be some huge practical joke, but only Anna could have copied that file and Anna had no more time for jokes than he did.

What could he do? He could warn the bank’s senior management; it wouldn’t do much for his employment record but he could always get another job. Avon picked up the communicator but the lights were dark. The hum from his computer screen had stopped. His personal console was dead as well. 

Even this late there must be someone in the office, someone he could tell before it was too late. Avon ran into the corridor and turned towards the management quarter. He got all of ten metres before the police arrived. It turned out that the woman who called herself Gressa was right. After that he really didn’t have any choices at all. 

 

There was little happening on the flight deck, which must have been why Blake’s attention was caught by something so apparently trivial. That and his habit of watching a particular crew member when nothing else demanded his attention. 

“What is it, Avon?”

Avon looked up at him. “What is what?”

“Something on your console made you smile. I think it was a smile. It might have been a grimace of pain. I just wondered what it was.”

Avon sat back and stretched his legs out. For a moment Blake thought that this was going to be yet another occasion where he just didn’t answer, then he shrugged. “I happened to notice the date, that’s all. It’s six months since we were due to land on Cygnus Alpha.” 

Blake’s mild paranoia melted into delight. “So it is. Six months on _Liberator_! We should celebrate!” 

“Party!” Vila said happily. ”Great!”

Avon definitely grimaced at that. “I hardly think that we have any cause for celebration.”

“Why not? We deserve it.” Blake took the opportunity to clap Avon cheerfully on the back. It was something he rather enjoyed doing and he didn’t often get the opportunity. “After all, when you were marched onto the _London_ , I imagine you thought you’d be trapped on Cygnus Alpha or dead by now.”

Avon turned, swiftly, knocking the glass of water out of Blake’s other hand. He held up his drenched sleeve, glowering. “It looks like you’ve already been celebrating. It’s bad enough having Vila drunk on the flight deck...”

“When was I ever?” Vila demanded. 

Blake was still looking down at the glass rolling along the floor in surprise. “Sorry, Avon.”

“You’d better take over my console for a few minutes.” Avon stalked out, wringing a few drops from the fabric of his sleeve as he did so. 

 

Avon had had plenty of time to change. Blake kept up the conversation but he was watching the door. Something was odd. He was sure that Avon had spilt that drink on purpose, yet the man was quite capable of refusing to engage in any conversation he didn’t like. He didn’t need to fake an accident to get him out of an awkward discussion.

Why would it be it awkward, anyway? Perhaps Avon didn’t like thinking of the time he’d wasted on _Liberator_ , as he no doubt considered it. Blake sighed inwardly. Cue another round of Avon repeatedly declaiming his intention to leave at the first opportunity. Blake could really do without that again. 

“We can’t just stay on _Liberator_!” Vila was protesting. “There are entire planets dedicated to throwing really good parties. What sort of fun can we have here?”

“I thought we could have a good meal and then people could take it in turns to maybe say a few words,” Blake suggested. 

“That’s not a party!” Vila insisted. “That’s a... a ceremony, or something!”

“Vila’s proposal does sound rather more entertaining, “ Jenna said. 

Blake thought that buying in corporate entertainment from strangers sounded utterly grim but before he could say so Avon reappeared. 

“Did I miss anything?”

“Just Blake’s idea of how to celebrate,” Vila said. “You’d probably like it. No fun involved.”

Avon snorted. “What are we celebrating, exactly?”

“Escaping Cygnus Alpha, for a start,” Jenna said.

“All five of us. Hardly the breakout of the century. How many people did we leave there?”

That criticism from that quarter seemed a little unreasonable. “Since when did you care about the people left behind on Cygnus Alpha?” Blake demanded.

“I don’t. If the dregs of humanity that constituted our companions on _London_ were a representative sample, I should think not even their mothers could bring themselves to care what happened to them. I’m merely pointing out that it seems a mite hypocritical for you of all people to be celebrating something that fell so far short of your supposed ideological aims.”

Avon walked over to his console and tapped a couple of buttons. “In a few days time the prison ship _Bow Wave_ will land on Cygnus Alpha and the Federation will consign another bunch of socially and politically inconvenient criminals to their exile, exactly as if our heroic escape six months ago had never happened. If we hadn’t acquired _Liberator_ in the process I doubt that our exploits would have been more than a footnote to an unread report somewhere.”

“What do you think we should have done?” Blake’s hands were on his hips. “Invade Cygnus Alpha, all five of us? We couldn’t take a planet.”

“You nearly took a ship, if you remember, till your soft heart let you down.”

Blake was staring at him now. “You think we should take the prison ship?”

“No, I don’t. Free a bunch of thieves, murderers and child molesters, most of whom are going to the fate that they richly deserve? There was precisely one innocent man on _London_. I have no reason to believe that there are that many on _Bow Wave_.”

“You missed out smugglers. And unsuccessful fraudsters.” Jenna said coldly. 

“The point still stands. Even by Blake’s standards rescuing any of them is hardly going to make the world a better place, and what’s in it for us? I just think you might refrain from feeling inordinately pleased with yourselves while your achievements are so meagre. Now, where are we running away to next?”

“A party planet,” Vila said. “We are still having a party, aren’t we? Even if Avon is being a sourpuss?”

Blake had paused, thinking. One innocent man. Avon had no way to know that his offhand assessment could have made the impact that it had. What if there was someone else innocent, someone who the Federation had framed and manipulated? Someone on that ship, about to be dumped on the hell that was Cygnus Alpha for life? 

“The party will wait,” he said finally. “Get me the _Bow Wave’s_ course, schematics and manifest.” He could feel Avon’s scowl of disapproval from all the way across the room. 

A couple of hours later Blake had the start of a plan and was fielding even more dissent than usual from the usual corner. 

“Supposing for one very unlikely minute that this doesn’t just get us killed, what do you intend to do with the ship, the surviving crew and a couple of hundred convicts?”

Blake bit back a sharp comment. Avon hat been relentlessly negative since he'd proposed taking the _Bow Wave_. He ought to be used to it by now, he supposed.

“I think that will be up to the prisoners, don’t you?”

“The prisoners?” Avon's voice was a drawl. “What a brilliant idea.Maybe we could organise a free and fair election to help them decide. Don't you remember anything at all about our cruise on the _London_? Most of our fellow convicts would have killed each other for half a bottle of spirits. What do you think they’d do for a ship?”

“Avon’s right,” Jenna said. “There are going to be some seriously unhinged people on that ship. If we leave them to it there will be a bloodbath.”

“What do you suggest, then?”

“Drop the whole idea,” Avon said. “I still don’t understand what you think you’re going to achieve.”

“If I could be imprisoned on _London_ even though I was innocent- as you pointed out, Avon- then why couldn’t someone on _Bow Wave_ have been framed too? And it’s not just me. None of you were a genuine danger to society, just a challenge to the Federation’s control.”

Avon raised an eyebrow. “Putting aside the fact that Gan and Vila’s respective pathologies wouldn’t exactly make a positive contribution to any civil society, you’re saying that we’re doing this because you think there might be half a dozen potential good guys on that ship?”

“Basically, yes.”

“So if you have to interfere, why don’t you just rescue these putative upright moral citizens and leave the Federation crew to dump the detritus on Cygnus Alpha as scheduled?” 

Blake frowned at the rest of the crew. “I don’t think that would be entirely ethical.” 

“It would be practical, though, “ Jenna said. “Unless you want us to either become prison guards or let a bunch of murderous gangsters take control of a ship full of unarmed people?”

Blake didn’t fancy either of those options, but Avon’s suggestion still seemed bizarre. “How would we know who to rescue? After all I wasn’t down on _London’s_ records as ‘framed political prisoner’” 

Avon sighed, his tone reluctant. “We have the prisoner list. The trial records are public. Using Orac I could doubtless pick up the sort of anomalies and non violent offences you’d be looking for. That’s if there are any.” 

Blake nodded. “I suppose you’d better make that list. We’ve got three days to come up with a plan before _Bow Wave_ is due to land on Cygnus Alpha.”

“A prison break,” Vila said. “Just like the vids. I can’t wait.” 

Blake genuinely couldn’t be sure whether he was joking or not.

 

“Four? Are you sure that’s all?” Blake had secretly been hoping for a dozen names.

“It appears that the _London_ may have been oversupplied with non violent criminals.” Avon pulled photos up onto the screen. “One Dome sub-manager caught feathering his own nest, one congenital liar on her seventh conviction for identity fraud, one leader of a drugs cartel and one attempted assassination of Servalan. That last one is not strictly non violent but I thought you might want to consider her anyway.”

Blake looked up at the mugshots. “Is the drugs dealer genuine? You’re sure he’s not political?”

“Yes. He’s got a history of buying his way out of previous charges. ”

“Scratch him, then,” Blake said. “Dealing is indirect violence. You’d better talk us through what you’ve got on the rest of them.” He didn’t think any of them sounded particularly promising but he supposed that _Liberator’s_ original crew reduced to a bare summary of their convictions wouldn’t have sounded like much either. Even with three more people things on _Liberator_ could change significantly. He glanced over at Avon. It was remotely possible that change might be even for the better, for once. 

 

“Change of plan,” Avon said. “Set me down in the aft freight area. The co-ordinates are on the system.”

Gan blinked at him. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. That’s where the access point I need is. Just do it. Gan! We’re short on time already.”

Gan shrugged and recalibrated the landing spot. “Call up as soon as you need pick up.”

“I certainly will. Be ready.”

Blake, Jenna and Vila had already teleported down to what should have been a secure point near the front of the ship. The plan, after negotiation with Blake over Avon’s much avowed reluctance to get involved in such an pointless scheme at all, was that Avon would take out out the ship’s computer system from the main board then teleport straight back, leaving Vila to break any separate security coding to give them access to the prisoners’ bay. 

This meant that Avon should soon be safe back on _Liberator_ , leaving any likely fighting to be done by Blake and Jenna who both seemed to actually want to risk their necks rescuing the three Avon had identified as perhaps not quite as guilty as the others. It also meant that he would be alone whilst on _Bow Wave_.

The hold was cold and dark. They had chosen to launch their assault during the night shift on the ship but this area was probably no better lit during the day shifts. It was only pressurised because some of the stores wouldn’t survive vacuum. Avon tucked one hand in his jacket. The other was wrapped firmly around the butt of his gun.

He started pacing up the length of the chamber, counting the panels. At the twenty seventh he stopped, fumbled in the biting cold for his screwdriver and laboriously unscrewed the panel. Behind was a mass of piping. Again he counted; the sixth off the ground level, a meter and a quarter along. It wasn’t easy to find, but after five minutes or so of frantic probing his awkward fingers slid off a small box, no more than ten centimetres on each side, attached to the back of the pipe. 

Breathing a prayer of thanks to the universe and his ability to accurately programme a very small robot, he detached it and tapped his bracelet. “Bring me up.”

“Shall I tell them you’ve taken out the computers?” Gan asked as the ship appeared around Avon. “They are getting a bit frantic down there.”

Avon stalked over to the console and picked up the mic. “I couldn’t get access,” he said. “You’re going to have to call the raid off. I’m bringing you back.” It had been a remarkably stupid idea anyway. He’d been quite surprised when Blake had taken the bait. 

“Wait!” Blake said. “Vila is just about through the doors here. We’ll keep going. Blake out.”

Idiot! Avon glared at the console, tempted to just leave them there. But his original task would only take a minute and their chances of getting out with the computers still operating were slight; he placed his box down very carefully and rejigged the co-ordinates. “Put me down again,” he told Gan. “And don't touch that!"

 

Avon woke to the astringent smell of the med unit and the accustomed lethargy from fast healing. As he sat up Blake put down the handheld console he’d been looking at. 

“Thought we’d lost you there for a while.” he said, more cheerfully than Avon thought the comment warranted.

“What happened?”

“You got shot in the back just after the computer systems went down. Good job there, by the way, even if it did take a while. We got all three of the targets out.”

“So your little empire is three larger now?” Avon started to strip the remains of his shirt off. The large hole in the back didn't bode well for the survival of his jacket. Another trip to the wardrobe room needed.

“I wanted you to have the chance to talk to them before I invited them to join us.”

“Why should I care?”

Blake shrugged. “After six months I still have very little idea of what you care about. On the off chance that who you share a ship with was one of those things I decided it could wait a few hours until you woke up.” 

He handed Avon a shirt hat was clean and intact but unfortunately yellow. “As it happens, I would appreciate your opinion as well this time. None of them are quite what we expected.”

Now that he’d recovered his box Avon wasn’t planning to hang around long enough for the credentials of Blake’s new recruits to matter. He did find himself curious though. He was going to have to wait for a suitable opportunity to leave the ship without fuss anyway. He might as well do one last bit of information gathering while he waited. 

“I suppose I could talk to them,” he agreed. 

“Thank you.” Blake paused. “Also I owe you an apology. You were right - we risked a great deal for uncertain reward and you weren't supposed to be the one putting yourself in danger." 

“No, I wasn't," Avon said with feeling. Whatever had possessed him to teleport across to the the _Bow Wave_ a second time when he'd got everything he needed from the first trip? On the other hand he didn’t want Blake fretting about why he’d done it. “These things happen. I survived.” He pulled the shirt over his head. 

“ Avon,” Blake said. He almost sounded tentative, for Blake.

“What now?”

“Do you want to be here, on _Liberator_?”

Damn. Avon had hoped that he had discouraged Blake from asking those sort of questions. Every lie he told felt like a trap for the future. He gave Blake a thoroughly discouraging look of disapproval. “The baffling thing is that you believe that anyone in their right minds would.”

“The new people do.” Blake said

“What are their ulterior motives?”

“What’s yours, Avon? Six months and you’re still here.”

“Maybe I’m just an opportunist looking for a way out of the mess I’m in.” 

“Huh. That shirt suits you.” Blake said. “By the way, Vila’s still working on that box you found.”

Avon’s head jerked up. “He is?”

“Apparently it’s got a very sophisticated version of a biometric lock. He’s quite excited. Where did you find it?”

“Behind the computer access point, the one I couldn’t get in from. It looked as if someone had deliberately hidden it.” 

"You'd better tell Vila that. He's been waiting for you to wake up so that he can quiz you about it."

"I can't tell him much, " Avon said, "but I'd better go and take a look at it before he breaks it. Where is he?" 

"Rec room I think. Thanks, Avon." 

Avon somehow resisted the urge to run all the way there. 

 

"Have you spotted that it's primed with explosives yet?" 

Vila looked up at Avon. "Oh, you're awake, are you? How did you know?" 

"An obvious guess. There's little point in using a highly advanced lock if someone can just take a laser to it. Are you sure you're not going to trigger the self destruct?"

"Of course not." Vila had placed a protective hand on the box. "Where was it hidden? Exactly, mind you." 

Avon pulled up a schematic of the _Bow Wave_ and pointed out a spot behind a subsidiary computer console in the aft hold, about five metres from the box's actual original location. 

"What on earth were you doing all the way over there?" Vila looked puzzled. "That's nowhere near the main computer room."

"I decided it would be just as feasible and a great deal safer to go in through the subsidiary. It turns out that I was wrong about the access but right about the safety, since nobody shot me while I was in the hold."

He saw Vila frown and realised that he'd made a mistake. He was over-compensating; he normally never answered Vila's questions. This was the problem with lying- it was wretchedly difficult to do perfectly. 

Get the box and get out of here. “Let me take a look at it,” He came forward, fingers outstretched.

Vila’s other hand came out to cover the first. “Come on, Avon. Would you let me fiddle around with one of your computer programs? If you break it I’ll never find out what’s inside.” 

He drew the box closer, against his jacket. “If you want to help, the best way to get into it is to figure out whose biometrics it’s keyed to. You’ve got the _Bow Wave_ records. Could you get DNA or iris prints off them?”

“Possibly,” Avon said. His hand had dropped again. “That’s assuming it’s keyed to someone who was on board.”

“If it’s keyed to someone not on board it’s going to be a lot harder, but I’ll figure it out eventually.”

“Maybe you will.” Avon said. “I’ll get those biometrics. Don’t get impatient and blow yourself up first.”

Another slip. The suggestion of concern for Vila's welfare was even less in character than the explanations. He could see Vila puzzling as his fingers ran over the ridged sides of the box. 

This was unconscionable. It would be so much simpler to pull a gun and simply take back his property, but he really didn't want to risk having to leave a pile of bodies and a vengeful crew behind him when he left. Vila was both skilled and cautious enough not to trip the self destruct; the box would be safe enough in his hands for now. 

 

Blake was trying not to feel disheartened. His apology (while entirely sincere or he wouldn’t have made it) had been intended in part to start a conversation about Avon really felt about the way things had been going. Six months was a long time to spend in anyone’s company, particularly if you didn’t appear to have a good word to say about their aims, principles, methods or general intelligence. 

Blake really didn’t want Avon to leave but he felt in all conscience that he couldn’t ignore the possibility that Avon was in fact as unhappy as his frequent criticisms would suggest. He wasn’t certain whether Avon had yet again brushed him off or if he’d bottled it. but either way that conversation hasn't clarified anything. 

“You don’t look happy,” Vila's voice startled him. 

“No, I’m fine. How’s the box getting on?”

“Avon has volunteered to help me with it,” Vila said.

“Oh.” Blake was a little startled by that. “Good. Let me know when you make some progress.”

Vila shook his head. “Definitely not that, then,” he said and wandered off again, leaving Blake looking after him in puzzlement.

 

“You've had two days. What do you think of them?” Blake had finally got Avon on his own for a few minutes. 

Avon finished pouring his mug of coffee. "Our much convicted liar hasn't told anyone a word of truth since she came on board. Finaire told Jenna that she was a runaway heiress of one of the Great Houses, she told Vila than she was a foundling raised by a circus troupe and she's told me that she's a Federation agent sent to infiltrate your organisation.”

“Could she be?”

"No. I asked her why they would had sent her on _Bow Wave_ and she gave me this nonsense about the Earth psychologists predicting _Liberator’s_ raid on the ship."

“I suppose they might have?” Blake was frowning. 

“ _Bow Wave_ left Earth months before _London_ even encountered _Liberator_. You were expected to be safely contained on Cygnus Alpha when her ship docked there. Finaire hadn't even done the basic maths. Get rid of her, Blake, nicely if you must, but you're in enough trouble already without not being able to believe a word one of your crew tells you.”

Blake managed not to point out the irony of Avon saying that. The man did seem to be making some sort of effort to be helpful at the moment. "I agree. We'll give her some money and put her down somewhere civilised. “

“She'll probably get on better somewhere not that civilised.” Avon seemed almost amused by Finaire.

“What about Hilfer?” 

Avon shrugged. "Interrogation broke him, as it was meant to. The Federation don't like their own betraying them." 

“He'll recover in time. He says he wants to join us."

“He only wants to stay on _Liberator_ because the idea of going anywhere else frightens him." 

“If you've got nothing else against him he stays,” Blake said firmly. “I'm not turning someone away because the Feds tortured them.” 

Avon shrugged again. “What's another lame duck, after all? You might want to keep him away from the weapons until that depression's fixed though.”

Blake nodded. “I'm not sure that I should even ask, but what do you think of Beldre?”

“Your new shadow? Cheerful little thing, isn't she? One might think that she's in remarkably good shape for someone who supposedly tried to kill Servalan and got caught.” Avon’s voice had turned sour. 

“Her trial was ten months ago. The young can be very resilient.” 

“And I'm sure the _Bow Wave_ was the perfect therapeutic environment for recovery . Come on, Blake. Have you ever known Servalan let her enemies get to trial alive, never mind in one piece? Yet here this girl is bouncing around happily spouting revolutionary ideology as if she'd not been so much as slapped on the wrist.”

“It’s not like that,” Blake said. “ I've talked to her a lot. She's had a really hard time, but she's an idealist, an optimist and that's pulled her through it.” 

“And why did Servalan let her live?”

“She only threw a reader at her head, Avon! Servalan was never in any danger. She was just an admin assistant who acted on impulse. She didn't have a plan or any associates. Beldre's trial made good propaganda but no-one on the Federation took her supposed crime seriously enough to really interrogate her, not the way they did with me.” 

Blake put down his own drink. “Besides, why would the Feds send an agent on the _Bow Wave_? As you said I was meant to be languishing on Cygnus Alpha. If they'd wanted me dead there all they needed with one trooper with a blaster.” 

“Why indeed,” Avon murmured. “Unless the Federation have a plan that we don't know about. Are you really prepared to risk your life to the guess that they don’t?”

“I have to take risks,” Blake said. “I have to trust people sometimes. Fortunately I've got a very competent cynic on board.” He smiled at Avon. “You'll watch her for me, I know.” 

“I might not be here forever, “ Avon said. “ I might get shot in the back again. I might walk out."

“When you're ready to walk out let me know, “ Blake said. “Until then I'm not going to worry about it. Beldre and Hilfer can stay, for now at least. How's Vila getting on with his box?” 

Avon sighed. “He's ruled out everyone on the crew and passenger manifest. Mostly he's just staring at it a great deal now. I might be able to help but he won't let me look at it.”

“I’ll have a word with him.” With Avon being so uncharacteristically obliging it was the least that Blake could do.

 

Avon settled down in the galley for a meal. He had something of a headache, having spent the last hour of his shift arguing with Beldre. If the girl was a Fed agent she was remarkably good at concealing it. He was beginning to wonder if he was mistaken but he had been sure that there must have been someone on _Bow Wave_ sent to replace him and Finaire had left the ship without any real protest. Maybe he’d missed the real agent when he’d filtered _Bow Wave’s_ records. It seemed more likely that Beldre was just very good at concealment.

The ex-Dome manager came in, quiet and nervous as usual, and started to make himself coffee. Halfway through he glanced over at Avon.

“Is it just us two eating now?”

“The others are either on the flight deck or asleep.” Avon took his meal and sat down with it.

“I want half your money,” Hilfer said abruptly.

That was bizarre. Had Hilfer’s head been turned by _Liberator_ ’s treasure room? “Then you’d better ask Blake very nicely indeed.”

“Not _Liberator’s_ money. Your five million, Kerr Avon. I want half of it, and I want off this ship with you when you go.”

Avon froze. Damn. He’d picked the wrong horse. There was no point whatsoever in playing ignorant. “You’re the spy.”

“They told me a year but I won’t do it. Blake won’t survive that long and nor will anyone with him. I want out now.”

“What’s that to do with me?” Avon said coolly. “I’m not your handler.”

“I’ll tell Blake about everything if you won’t pay.”

“And how will that help you?”

“It will get me off this ship. Blake won’t blame me. I’ve barely lied to him at all. He’d put me down somewhere with money, like he did with Finaire. I want more than a hundred thousand though, after what I’ve been through. I want half of what was in that box.” 

His smile was still nervous but to Avon it seemed cold and greedy. “You don’t want Blake to know about you and the Federation do you, Avon? Transfer half the credits to a chit for me and take me with you. That’s all I want.” 

Avon could see the shape of the gun under the man’s jacket. “I’ll think about it,” he said. 

“Not good enough. I need the money now.” Hilfer’s voice was shaking. Not stable, Avon judged. He would have to speak carefully.

“I don’t have the money,” he pointed out. “Vila’s still carrying the box around with him. I haven’t managed to get my hands on it yet.”

Hilfer stared at him desperately. “Then I’ll tell Blake now.”

“There’s no need to be hasty. I’ll get hold of it on my next shift. It’s a lot of money for a very short wait, Hilfer. Blake won’t be particularly generous, you know that. You worked for the Federation. You lied to him.”

It would be remarkably stupid of the man to let Avon out of his sight now that he’d tipped his hand, but he could see that Hilfer did so much want those credits.

“You have to get the money now,” the man said. “Now! Hurry. I can’t wait for long.” He put down the untouched drink and ran from the room.

Avon went ahead with his meal while he thought. Hilfer was on the edge. He wouldn’t put down that gun and if he got any more nervous he would blurt everything to Blake. The safest thing to do was probably to give him the credits and recover them later. Hilfer was bound to drop his guard at some point. It did mean leaving as soon a possible though, he thought, with a pang of regret- Hilfer was too dangerous to keep close to Blake.

So, getting the box from Vila was the first thing. Vila was off shift and probably asleep. Avon would just have to persuade and if necessary bully him into giving the box up for just a few minutes. 

 

He was halfway to Vila’s quarters when Blake came round the corner. 

“Blake,” Avon said. “I thought you’d be asleep.”

“Avon?” Blake looked at him intently. “Avon. Would you come with me? There’s something we really ought to talk about.” 

“Certainly.” Avon’s heart was racing. Hilfer must have gone straight to him after all. The thing to do, he told himself, was to find out how much Blake knew before he said anything to incriminate himself. 

Blake led the way back to his rooms, walking rather faster than he usually did. Avon followed him into his quarters. He thought about demanding an explanation but he didn’t want to come across as arrogant, not yet. If he was as reasonable as he could manage then maybe Blake could be made to understand how he’d had no choice.

“I’m guessing you’ve worked out my little secret by now,” Blake said. 

Blake’s secret? Was the man was going to play games over this? He’d hoped Blake would at least live up to his usual straightforwardness. 

“I don’t think I know what you might consider constitutes a secret,” Avon said, carefully.

“I suppose that’s fair enough, “Blake said. “I probably haven’t been anything like subtle. Anyway I think I ought to just come out and ask the question. If the answer’s no, we’ll just have to deal with things from there. Is that reasonable?”

Since Avon couldn’t make much sense of what Blake was proposing he had no idea whether it was reasonable or not. What was clear was that it was too late to hide things now. “You’d better ask your question, then, “ he said. “I won’t lie to you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’m worried about a lot of things,” Blake said, “but not that one. All right then.”Avon could see him take a deep breath. “I was wondering if you’d mind if I kissed you.”

Avon’s brain did a somersault. 

For a moment he thought that it might be a trap but looking at Blake’s anxious face he couldn’t really believe that. Was this a bizarre reaction to Hilfer’s disclosure, or something else?

“Why now?”

Blake’s lower lip was pressed tight between his teeth. He was obviously trying to be careful with his response. 

“It seems to me that you’ve been different since you were shot. More open, much less defensive. It feels as if maybe we’re finally on the same side? I’ve wanted to ask for ages but this is the first time I thought that maybe you wouldn’t bite my head off for suggesting it.”

He smiled, a little more confidently. “Also you’re still wearing my jacket.”

With everything that had been going on, Avon hadn’t found time to visit the wardrobe room but he could hardly tell Blake that. For a second he automatically searched for the right lie to tell, but it dawned on him that it really wasn’t necessary.Whatever he was, he wasn’t a spy on Blake any more.

“If you like,” he said.

“Really?”Blake’s smile was so wide that it could have wrapped twice round the ship.

“If you need telling twice...”

“Oh, I don’t!” Blake came forward, arms wide, and Avon let himself be pulled close. His heart was still pounding but no longer with fear. Relief surged through him as Blake kissed him. Remarkably it was all going to be all right after all. 

 

After all that waiting and agonising it had turned out to be so simple. Blake held on tight to the dozing man,listening to the steady breathing. So calm now,so passionate just a few minutes ago. He had never guessed beforehand how much Avon would let himself go. He had made love to Blake as though the whole thing had been some incredible, undreamed of revelation, which couldn’t help but be astoundingly flattering. 

That would change. Blake doubted that Avon would stay overwhelmed by him for long. They were going to be together for good and so good for each other, of that he was certain. 

Unlike Avon he wasn’t at all drowsy. Blake pushed himself up on one arm to look down at his lover. Avon’s face was relaxed, an expression Blake could definitely do with seeing more often. His left arm was stretched out to touch Blake, his right hand closed around the little box from the _Bow Wave_ that Blake had borrowed from Vila. Blake had remembered it after they’d made love and had presented it to Avon as a mock gift. Avon had thanked him with equally mock sincerity and tucked it under his pillow. Half asleep he must have grasped it again. Vila had said that it was potentially dangerous; Blake tried to prise it out of the sleeping man’s fingers but Avon had muttered sleepily and clutched it tighter. It would be all right, Blake judged. It wasn’t as if Avon would accidentally try to open it in his sleep. 

Zen chimed an alert. “Message for Blake. Hilfer requests an urgent meeting.”

Duty called. Blake shifted away from Avon to start dressing.

“Where are you going?” Avon had woken.

“Hilfer wants to talk to me about something. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Avon pushed himself upright. “Don’t go.”

Blake smiled at him. “Sorry, love.I have to. It sounds important.” 

“It isn’t,” Avon said. “Forget Hilfer for the moment. Come back to bed.”

“I can’t!” Blake said, a little more firmly. “Be reasonable, Avon. I’ll talk to Hilfer and then I’ll come back to you.”

“You won’t.” There wasn’t a trace of a smile on the man’s face now. “If you go now, you won’t come back.”

“What are you talking about?” Blake demanded. “You don’t even know what Hilfer wants.”

“I do,” Avon said. “And I was a fool to think I could escape it here. At least listen to me before you listen to him, please, Blake. It won’t take long.”

Blake sat down again, a sense of foreboding clawing at his gut. Avon looked so bleak. “Go on then.”

Avon placed the tiny box on the palm of his hand and twisted the top with the other. The lid slid off.

“How did you do that?” Blake stared at it in astonishment. “Vila’s been failing to open that for a week!”

“I had a significant advantage over Vila this time.” Avon said. He tipped the two chips into his hand and walked over to Blake’s hand console. “Take a look at this.”

Blake blinked at the reader. “Do you know what this is?”

“That’s the boring one.” Avon said. 

“A five million credit chip is boring? What’s the other one?”

Avon tossed him the second chip. Blake slid it into the machine. It was not what he could conceivably have expected. 

“This is a fake. You’ve forged this.” It was the only possible explanation.

“No.” 

“But... it’s dated the day before we were put on _London_!”

“Yes,” Avon agreed. “Obviously I needed it fully authorised before we left, even if I couldn’t get hold of it until now.” 

Blake put the console down. “It’s a full presidential pardon. In your name.”

“The five million wasn’t going to be much use if I was still a wanted man.” 

Blake was staring at him now. “What the hell did you do, Avon?”

“Ironically enough, a great deal less than everybody thought. I was never a fraudster, I was framed by the security services. They offered me money and freedom if I agreed to be your minder on _London_ and Cygnus Alpha until _Bow Wave_ arrived with my payment.”

“My minder? What does that mean? What did you _do_?” Blake demanded again.

“I didn’t do anything,” Avon said. “I stayed with you, just as I was told. That’s all. I assumed I’d get further instructions but I never did. Now I’ve got the pardon they’ve got no further hold over me anyway.”

“What does this have to do with Hilfer?”

“He was sent as my replacement, but he’s got extremely cold feet about the idea of being shot at alongside you by the Federation for a year. He thought he’d blackmail me into giving him half my payout and taking him with me.”

Blake waved a hand, dismissing Hilfer,. “You’ve lied to me all along.”

“I had little choice.”

“Why did you have to sleep with me?”

“That I did have a choice about. I wanted to.”

“Why?” 

Avon’s eyes were boring into his. “The box was on _Liberator_. The Feds had no more power over me. It wasn’t so important to keep my distance any more.” 

“Wasn’t important? You slept with me because it _wasn’t_ important?”

“I slept with you because for the first time in years I was a free agent. It felt like the first honest interaction we’ve ever had.” 

“How odd. It doesn’t feel anything like that to me.” Blake said flatly. He tipped the chip out of the reader. 

Avon stretched a hand out. Blake slid the chips into his hip pocket. “You don’t seriously think I was going to hand those back to you?”

It clearly hadn’t occurred to Avon that there was any question about the matter. “They are mine.”

“Blood money from the Federation for betraying me, Avon? Do you think I’m a complete fool?”

“No,” Avon said. “The chips don’t matter anyway. I’m not leaving _Liberator_ , not now.”

“I don’t know where you get that idea from, Kerr Avon.” Blake glared at him.

“I’m not working for the Federation any more,” Avon said.

“And that makes everything all right, does it? Get out of my bedroom!” Blake snarled. “I’m going to find out from Hilfer which lies you haven’t told me about and then I’m going to talk to the others about dumping you on Cygnus Alpha where you belong!”

“I’ve never done anyone on _Liberator_ any harm,” Avon said.

“Is that what you think? Then you’re a fool as well as a traitor! Get out!”

Avon dressed without another word but at the door he stopped. “We need to talk about this properly, when you’ve calmed down.” 

“I don’t want to talk to you any more than I have to ever again. Get out.” 

 

By the time Blake entered the flight deck Avon had roused all the original crew and was sitting at his console. He knew that yet again he was facing the loss of everything important to him, but he wasn’t the man he’d been on Earth and he was determined that this time he would not go meekly. 

He stood up as Blake came in.

“Now everyone’s here, I have something to tell you all." He looked round at the curious faces. Everything was about to change. "It is something that I would have much preferred to keep to myself but circumstances,” he nodded at Blake, “ do not permit me the luxury of privacy. I trust that you will all bear in mind that this situation was not of my devising, nor was I given any choice.”

“Stop making excuses and get on with it, “Blake said coldly.

“Very well then. I regret to have to inform you all that I am in love with Blake.”

Blake was across the room before anyone else could react, his fist hard against Avon’s cheek. “How dare you mock me, you treacherous bastard!”

“Blake!” Cally had grabbed his arm. “Blake, stop. Can’t you tell that he means it?” 

He pulled away from her. “You don’t understand!”

Avon was rubbing his jaw. Blake's assault had not been unanticipated but it hurt rather more than he had expected. “Well, now that’s the difficult one over, I imagine Blake would like me to tell you all about the other thing I’ve been concealing, minor as it is in comparison. Sit down, Blake. You’ve had your outburst and now you’re getting your moment after all.”

He turned back to the others. “I was planted on _London_ , entirely without my consent, by Federation Security with instructions to remain with Blake should he manage to escape. I have done precisely that and no more. I have made no reports, sabotaged no missions, betrayed no-one here, and I am not answerable in any way to the Federation.”

Blake’s voice came loud over the babble of questions. “Betrayed no-one? You seduced me!”

“No. You propositioned me. And if I’d had any loyalties to anyone but you I’d have turned you down.”

“I never thought you had any loyalties to the Federation, “ Blake said scornfully. “Just to your fee. You could have come and told me what you’d done as soon as we took _Liberator_ , when we were out of Fed control, but you didn’t want to jeopardise your pay-off, did you? So you lied to all of us for six months, for money.” 

"You have no idea how much I lost when the Federation framed me, ' Avon snapped at Blake. "Was it really so unforgivable to want to come out with something at the end of it?" 

"How big a something?' Vila asked. 

"Five million credits and a full pardon." Blake said. He showed the two chips to Vila. "All the time you were risking your life trying to open that box from _Bow Wave_ , guess who it was keyed to?" 

"There's no need to exaggerate," Avon said. "If there was any likelihood at all that Vila would screw up badly enough to trigger the self destruct I wouldn't have left it with him. I was more worried that he'd somehow figure out how to get it open before I got a chance to do so. They are meant to be fool proof but Vila's a higher standard of fool than most."

He looked around. This altercation with Blake was clearly leaving the others more bemused than convinced. "The important point is that the only thing I did for them is stay on _Liberator_ and where would any of you be now if I hadn't?" 

“No,” Jenna retorted. “The important thing - the only important thing- is that you lied to us about everything, Avon.”

Avon bit back a sharp response. He needed Jenna at least neutral, if not on his side. “Actually I very seldom had any reason to lie to any of you. My ‘crime’ was set up but my conviction, sentence and transportation was entirely genuine. I was a convict with no better way to escape Cygnus Alpha than the rest of you, not till _Liberator_. Every time I risked my life, every hour I worked on _Liberator’s_ systems, every time I saved any of you; that was real.” 

His eyes were drawn inevitably back to Blake. “However I got here, I don’t intend to leave. I was entirely serious about what's keeping me here now. 

"Very touching. When would you have told me if Hilfer hadn't forced your hand?"

"Probably never, " Avon admitted. " What would either of us have gained by it?"

"That's how much you value our relationship. You would have been happy to base it on a lie if it saved you trouble. My life's been full of enough Federation lies. I won't put up with them any more." 

Blake turned away from him, to the others. "Taking him back to Cygnus Alpha is more trouble that he deserves. Set a course for the closest inhabited planet. I want him off this ship in the next few hours, and Hilfer with him." 

"Authoritarian to the last, " Avon said. " You might remember when you're dealing righteous judgement from on high that I'm as much a victim of the Federation as the rest of you, and not just the Federation. Everything I had worked for all my life, everyone important to me was stripped away from me in an instant for the sole reason that the Feds thought Roj Blake a dangerous man . Don't you think after that you might at least owe me a second chance?" 

It was his last shot. For a moment he saw Blake flinch and thought it might have hit home. Then Blake straightened up again. 

"I owe you absolutely nothing. Cally, Gan, will you please accompany Avon to his rooms and watch him pack. I don't want him getting the chance for last minute sabotage. Jenna, find me that planet and get me a course. Vila, stay on the bridge and monitor everything. I don't want any more surprises today. I'll deal with Hilfer." He strode out of the room. 

Avon shook off Gan's hands. "All right. I'm moving." And to Cally. "This is not fair. You must see that."

" I can see that Blake had never really recovered from losing his whole identity to Federation deception. How could you let him fall in love with another lie, Avon?" 

"Most of it wasn't a lie," Avon said wearily. "And I didn't know about Blake. I didn't even know about myself." 

"I'm sorry, " Cally said. " But I don't see how anyone is going to make him let you stay."

 

It hadn't been particularly brave of Blake, he knew, to avoid Avon during the final few hours, but he'd reached his limit of courage. They told him that Avon had been morosely co-operative right up to the moment that he'd walked into the teleport room and found that Blake wasn't there. 

Then, according to Jenna, there had been a bit of a scene. It was over now, anyway. Every second _Liberator_ was leaving the Federation agents further behind and they’d been travelling for a week. He was no longer angry, just hollow. He’d lost people before. You just had to keep going until it hurt less. 

He was standing at his console and watching the stars go by when the ship lurched.

“Jenna!”

“Sorry,” Jenna said. “Lousy V transition.” 

Vila had walked around to pick up the chips that had rolled off Blake’s console. He frowned at them.

“I thought you’d have given Avon the pardon. After all it’s no use to us.”

Blake scowled at him. “Are you defending him?”

“No,”Vila said quickly. “But.”

“But what?”

Vila shrugged awkwardly. “Well, I can’t really say, can ? I mean, honesty’s basically this Alpha thing. Where I came from, everybody lied.” 

“Yes,” Gan’s deep voice agreed. “It was the only way to keep out of trouble.”

Jenna snorted. “Not just an Alpha thing, a law abiding Alpha thing. Once you were outside the law telling the truth really wasn’t a good idea.” 

Blake huffed. “What about you, Cally? Are you going to tell me that Aurons lie?”

“You can’t lie with telepathy,” Cally said calmly. “Humans don’t have our advantages. I wouldn’t expect them to keep to our moral code.” 

Blake turned back to Jenna. “You were happy enough to leave him last week.” 

“I’ve had a chance to think about it since then,” she said. “The planet we left them on was pretty dire, Blake. Maybe the pardon would have helped. And a bit of money. We could have left them that.” 

“He did save our lives a few times,” Vila pointed out.

“I’m not having him back on board,” Blake snarled. He looked down at the two chips in Vila’s hand. “You can take him the pardon and a few hundred credits. After that we’re done with him.” 

In the end he went down to the surface himself with Gan. His conscience insisted that he had at least to see the conditions that he was condemning Avon to. 

They looked appalling. The planet was a farming one, run by huge corporations using thousand of cheap human labourers. They teleported to the previous co-ordinates and after some asking around they traced Avon to an anonymous row of dilapidated shacks built up against one of the huge barns. As they approached through the mud Avon appeared at the doorway to one, a long and jagged knife in his hand. His expression didn’t change as he let them walk past him into the shack.

“Where’s Hilfer?” Blake asked. There was a long raw and festering cut across Avon’s face; he was limping and looked gaunt. He hadn’t put down the knife. 

“Dead,” Avon said briefly. At Blake’s expression he elaborated. “Some of the locals thought clean clothes meant he must have money. I fought them off but there are no doctors out here. He died of his injuries a couple of days ago. I did at least get the knife out of it.” 

Blake’s fist tightened around the tiny chips. A presidential pardon would be laughably irrelevant down here, and five hundred credits wouldn’t stop Avon dying of infection. Reluctantly, he unclipped the spare bracelet from his waist. “Get your stuff.”

Avon snorted. “What stuff?” He clipped the bracelet around his wrist.

“You can get cleaned up and use the med unit.” Blake called for teleport. “Then we’ll decide where you’re going. Not back to this place, anyway.”

Avon said nothing to that, just started towards the med room. As Blake began reluctantly to follow, Avon stopped and turned.

“I do remember the way, and I still have no intention of sabotaging your fucking ship, Blake.Why don’t you do us both a favour and just leave me alone for a bit?” As Blake froze, stunned at the savagery in his tone, Avon turned his back again and limped away. 

 

On the fifth day, local time, Avon had decided that Blake wasn’t coming back. Until then the entire thing had been an exercise in temporary survival, a very unpleasant and dangerous one, admittedly, but nothing inherently different from any other stupid Blake scheme that he’d got dragged into over the last six months.. After that it was different.

When Blake finally turned up, an utterly unforgivable ten days later, he seemed completely indifferent to the fact that he’d killed Hilfer and nearly killed Avon. All he did was declare his intention to clean Avon up and then maroon him again. Somewhere a bit nicer, this time, apparently. Maybe that meant somewhere where Avon could survive as long as a month, if he worked at if, if he was lucky.

After Avon’s injuries were dealt with he showered and walked naked up to the wardrobe room. Everything that had been his was gone and he wouldn’t put on the rags he’d come on board with again. Then he collected a supply of food and nutrition supplements from the galley and returned to his room. There was no need for him to leave it for at least five days, he judged. If Blake wanted to maroon him again he’d have to come and get him first.

Various people came and tried to talk to him. He kept the door locked and switched the intercom off when they got too persistent. There was only one voice that he was waiting for and it came about ten hours after he’d returned to _Liberator_.

“Open the door, Avon.” And after a pause, a reluctant, heavy “Please.”

He watched Blake come in. Briefly and incongruously he remembered the feel of the man’s body against his. It had been very good sex by any criterion, but then he’d been in love. That felt like about a hundred years ago. 

“I should not have left you there.” Blake said, finally.

Avon didn’t think that warranted a response. He waited.

“I don’t think you can have any real concept of how angry I was.”

“We could swap notes,” Avon suggested. “See how your wounded pride compares to my two weeks in hell.”

“You think it was pride?”

“Mostly, yes. You wanted to believe that I stayed all that time against my better judgement because I was drawn to your radiance, a moth to your candlelight, lover to lover. What worse blow could I have possibly delivered to your self-esteem than the truth?”

Blake paced up and down a couple of times before he finally nodded. “Maybe that’s some of it. You should still have told me at the beginning.”

“Five million credits was a strong incentive not to trust a stranger,“ Avon said.

Blake thrust his hand into his jacket pocket and offered the contents to Avon. “These are yours. I can’t justify keeping them from you. You can make a new start somewhere.”

Avon didn’t reach out for the two chips. “How’s Beldre getting on?” He had picked up the answer already from Zen but he wanted Blake to say it. 

“She’s gone.“ Blake said. “I think, with what happened, I frightened her. We put her down a few days ago, same deal as Finaire got. “

“So you’re short a crew member again,” Avon said, neutrally. 

Blake frowned at him in bemusement. “You don’t need a place on _Liberator_. You’ve got your money and your freedom. We’ll put you down anywhere within reason.” He placed the chits on Avon’s bare desk. 

“I could have taken that box and walked away as a rich man ever since we got back from _Bow Wave_. You may recall that I chose to stay around and sleep with you instead.“ He raised an eyebrow at Blake. “I’ve spent six months fluttering pointlessly around in the blinding glare of five millions credits to come. I’m afraid that you had to wait until it got dark enough for this moth to see how rather attractive the candlelight was instead.”

He sighed at Blake’s blank expression. “Not the right moment, clearly. Still, you know that _Liberator_ needs me. If it doesn’t work out I can take my money and go.” 

Blake was still looking blank. Eventually he took a breath. "Let me think about it. I need to talk to the others. I'll give your my answer tomorrow. "

Avon nodded, there being little else he could do. 

Blake walked to the door and paused. "Hilfer's death was my fault, and I won't forgive myself for it. I know that it could just have easily been you."

Oddly enough now that Blake had acknowledged the culpability that Avon had furiously attributed to him Avon felt a strong urge to minimise it . He shrugged, "My sorrow at Hilfer's death was rather tempered by the knowledge that If he hadn't tried to blackmail me we would still both have been alive and tucked up in comfort on _Liberator_. He might not have deserved that particular death but he wasn't an innocent, Blake. "

Blake half shook his head. "Is there anything you need?" he asked. 

“Not until tomorrow.”

“Then I'll see you then.” The door closed behind him. Avon put the chips away in a drawer then threw himself backwards onto the bed and closed his eyes. Nothing to do but wait.

 

"How's Avon doing? "

Blake had finally tracked Jenna down to one of the engine rooms. She had pulled her head out of a mess of circuits long enough to check who it was then had dived in again, her voice only slightly muffled. 

"Recovering," Blake said. 'He wants to stay on board. I need to know if anyone has a problem with that. "

"Have you asked the others? What did they say?" 

“You're the last one. And no they don't. "

That last was a bit of an oversimplification. Everyone had turned out to have an opinion about Avon's actions and about his. There were serious stresses on the ship that had not been present, or at least not been obvious, before _Bow Wave_. Still there had in the end been the sort of rough consensus that _Liberator_ tended to operate on. There was just Jenna, and Blake himself, currently outside it. 

“Can you settle things between you two,” Jenna asked. 

“I've no idea,” he said honestly. 

“Well, that's better than 'no', I suppose. We won't get a replacement one tenth as good as Avon. He could do this in half the time that it’s taking me. I'm pretty astonished that he wants to stay after what happened but we'd be fools to turn him away."

Blake had been half hoping for a veto from someone that would have made his decision easier but now it was all in his hands again. "Thanks," he said. "I'll let you know what I decide." 

 

"There are some things that can't be fixed," Blake said to Avon. He was finally back in the man's room after drifting around the rest of the ship all day, thinking. "Trust that's gone. To me you're not the same person as I believed you were three weeks ago."

"You've never exactly been flexible in your thinking about me," Avon said without any noticeable heat. "You'll change your mind eventually. Unless, that is, you're throwing me out again." 

"No I'm not. You can stay. I just want to make it clear that we are not in any way an item."

Avon laughed at that, a genuine sound that Blake realised that he hadn’t heard for far too long.

"Not in any way’ is a risible claim. If you insist I will acknowledge that we are not, for the moment, sleeping together. The rest is a matter of opinion. Mine, as usual, will turn out to be right.”

Blake sighed. “You’re a liar, Kerr Avon. Something I intend to remind both of us of at regular intervals. Jenna’s been trying to fix the connection to the number four engine all day. Make yourself useful and give her a hand, will you?”

He stood for a moment in the empty room after Avon had left. Too empty. Avon had apparently brought nothing back from his exile. Everything in the cases he’d taken down to the surface must have been sold or stolen. Only the bare furniture remained.

A shopping trip, Blake thought. They could all do with a break somewhere busy and Federation-free, a chance to pick up a few of the items that _Liberator_ didn’t supply. Maybe he would buy Avon some candles, since the guy claimed to be a moth. Maybe that would be considered flirting, though?

Struggling with the thorny problem of what type of candles would clearly carry a message more sarcastic than romantic, Blake set off back to the flight deck. He was half way there before he realised that he had been smiling for several minutes straight.

 

THE END


End file.
